


I Could Make You Care

by revolver56



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Romance, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 09:18:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18891673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolver56/pseuds/revolver56
Summary: Daniel thought, with the new world he was shoved into, that all the wonderful panic attacks and sudden reminders of his old life would stop.He should have figured that wouldn't be the case.





	I Could Make You Care

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ! For context:
> 
> Daniel was medically discharged when he served in the Battle of Anchorage due to being severely burned after an explosion. He later had skin graft surgery in Boston. As a result of this all, he has a severe fear of fire and certain triggers can elicit a panic attack.

"Come on, come on... _Aw_ , dammit," Deacon sighed, falling back against their cover. He quickly worked to reload his rifle. 

Things were going great. As in, stumbling onto Gunner territory great. In fact, the best thing about stumbling into Gunner territory — Daniel decided — was how magnificently armed they were! Their firepower! The outnumbering! It was bliss each time it happened, and with how rapidly Gunners were expanding their outstanding empire, you never knew when such a marvellous moment would grace one as lucky as you. 

So there he and Deacon were, hiding behind a crumbling brick wall atop the building they had been wandering on. It was just earlier that Daniel decided to take Deacon on his offer to practice sniping, thus bringing them amongst higher ground. Unfortunately, Daniel had his blonde moment when he forgot to keep to the shadows; there's practically never a moment of safety, no matter where you go, and he stood right up in the sunlight to be shot in the calf. 

"Now is a great time to _really_ practice, huh?" Daniel laughed nervously. His rifle was by his feet where he sat on the ground; he was busy ripping off the end of his shirt to tie around where he had been shot. Deacon glanced down at Daniel's unsteady hands. 

"You gonna make it, Charmer? I don't think leaving the bullet in your—"

"They're Gunners, D. There's already only two of us, I'm not letting you take 'em on your own," Daniel argued. 

Deacon huffed, "That thing could get nasty—"

"Deacon."

He stared at Daniel for a moment and begrudgingly sighed. He slapped Daniel's shoulder, failing to ignore the smug grin on his companion's face. "Don't come cryin' to me when that thing stinks."

"Like we don't stink already!" Daniel barked a laugh, which Deacon couldn't help but return. 

_"Somebody get out their goddamn grenades before those bastards run off!"_

Deacon hastily pulled up his rifle, "Okay, funtime's over."

Daniel double-knotted the piece of his shirt over his leg as Deacon began firing again. He took a moment to lean his head back and take a deep breath before reaching for his own rifle. 

Daniel propped it over the edge of the makeshift window of space that they had, searching his mind for what Deacon had taught him earlier. He glanced at his partner and tried to copy his position. 

_"Take a deep breath to steady yourself. You've gotta be steady or you'll miss and, I dunno, shoot his left nut."_

Daniel huffed out a little laugh and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and his hands. He closed one eyes, and—

"Grenade!" Deacon shouted. Daniel froze in place. 

 

_"Grenade!"_

_He was looking back at someone, someone who yelling his name, and then he was running and running. A heavy force pushed his entire body to the ground, his ears began ringing, and Daniel couldn't feel the left side of his body._

_"Smith is down! Smith is down!"_

_He was laying in the snow, unable to hear himself over his own screaming. Medics rushed to pull him out of the abrupt gunfire, but all he could feel were the flames eating into his skin._

 

An explosion went off as Deacon grabbed the back of Daniel's shirt collar and forcefully tugged him down. 

 

_"Oh, my god!"_

_Daniel watched with wide eyes as the bomb was dropped over their home. Without a second thought, he had Nora and Shaun buried against his chest, draping himself over them. Panic was filling his every sense and all he could hear was the war and his neighbors screaming. They dropped underground_.

 

"Charmer—"

 

_"Honey, you're squeezing too tight," Nora whispered, and he felt Shaun whine and push weakly against his chest. Daniel quickly let them go and found himself holding Nora's arms as gently as he could._

_Her eyes were lit with concern. "You're shaking, love. We're okay. We're right here, it's okay."_

 

"Daniel, are you alright?" Deacon's voice broke through. 

What the hell was happening? 

Deacon was gripping his shoulders tightly, his rifle next to him. Daniel was squeezing his own to his chest like he would die without it. 

"Hey, buddy, there's—" Deacon started, and another grenade went off below them, causing Daniel to jump. He released the rifle and frantically pushed Deacon away, hands running over his own chest. 

 _It burns, it burns, it burns_. His hands went under his shirt, running over the scars that had had time to heal from the 200 years he spent frozen. His breathing was rapid, fingers rubbing over the grafts he had received.

Deacon was returning to his side, "Hey. Daniel—"

"I-I can feel the fire again, Deacon—"

One of Deacon's hands slipped onto the back of his neck and Daniel was pulled forward, their foreheads pressing together. Daniel's vision became occupied with sunglasses and sweat, Deacon's breathing barely noticeable compared to his. 

"You're okay. We'll get out of here, I promise. You know I'm not one for promises, but I can say right now, this isn't our first rodeo with these assholes," Deacon spoke, voice low. Daniel stared at him. Deacon's thumb brushed through some of the sweaty hair at the bottom of Daniel's neck. "I don't know what you're thinking of, but it's not here. You're here, Daniel, not there. You're okay."

Daniel took a moment to realize he had his fingers buried in Deacon's shirt and that there was still an echo of gunfire underneath. He focused on the finger moving on his neck and the soft breaths leaving Deacon's nose. 

"You're," Daniel exhaled, wetting his lips with a dry tongue, "you're big talk for a guy who just told me he'd try to singlehandedly kill an army of Gunners."

Deacon grinned, eliciting a slight smile out of Daniel. "My deck of cards is a small one. Besides, if it were just you, you'd try to take all of 'em down on your own."

Daniel chuckled breathily, "I'm all bark and no bite."

"I know."

Deacon's hand pulled away from his neck and he patted Daniel's cheek, making the man laugh a little. 

Deacon reached for his rifle and moved away from his companion. Daniel's fingers rubbed together, like he was still trying to feel the fabric of Deacon's shirt between them. He swallowed over the lump in his throat and tried to compose himself, his head feeling fuzzy with confusion as to why he missed the sudden closeness between them. 

"How's about we play dead and slip out of here? I think it's best we try Deacon's Fabulous Sniping Lessons another day and after checking if our friends are nearby," Deacon suggested. He was already pulling his rifle strap over his shoulder, reaching for their bag. 

Daniel coughed a bit, "Yeah. Yeah, sounds, uh, better. Better than this." 

Deacon offered him a friendly grin and didn't pester on about if Daniel was going to flip a lid again. "Great, boss. Let's slip out before they realize we aren't chilling out with our guts everywhere."

Daniel put his rifle strap on and followed Deacon, whom had began crawling to the roof nearby. 


End file.
